


Trust

by owains



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post TWS, i dont know quite what to tag this as, not quite but close enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:29:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2138760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owains/pseuds/owains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Why?"</i><br/>Bucky asks Steve a question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> This was really short, sorry!! I have some bad writer's block, and I was just doing some exercises. Here's the product of one. Enjoy?

_“Why?”_

Steve glanced up from the book he was reading ( _Apollo 11 Moon Landing: 40th Anniversary Retrospective._ Nat had bought it for him off of the Internet) and raised a dark eyebrow at Bucky, who was sitting crosslegged on the floor. “What was that?” he asked, absentmindedly running his fingers through his mess of blond hair. The man on the floor shook his head and sighed sharply. “Nothing, nevermind…” he grumbled. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed and he closed the book, setting it next to him on the couch. “Bucky. You know you can talk to me. You’re my friend, that’s what friends are for,” he asserted. Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes. He had a problem with that, Steve noted. He would work on that later.

“Bucky,” Steve said, this time more sternly. Bucky was unresponsive for a few seconds. Steve almost repeated his name, in case he hadn’t heard (which was unlikely. Being an assassin probably required super hearing), but right as his mouth opened, he interjected.

“Why do you trust me?” the brunet croaked.

The question shocked Steve, making him pause for a moment to think. Because really, there was absolutely no reason he could trust him in this state. He was slowly regaining elements of the real, original James Buchanan Barnes that Steve loved, but he was nothing like himself. He sighed softly, getting off the couch. He sat himself down across from Bucky, mirroring the brooding man’s cross-leggedness. Steve was still quiet, and Bucky stared at him expectantly, waiting for a response.

“I trust you because you’re my friend,” Steve finally responded.

“I tried to kill you,” Bucky retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That wasn’t your fault, Buck…”

“It doesn’t matter. I still tried to kill you.”

“What’s done is done. Look, I know it’s hard for you to accept, but you’re still the same Bucky who was always there for me,” Steve said. Bucky stayed quiet, arms folded across his chest, his stormy grey eyes meeting Steve’s clear blue. “Do you remember that one time near Christmastime, I had a fever?” Steve earned a slight shake of the head. “Well,” he continued, “even though the ground was covered in snow, and your only pair of snow boots had been ruined, you still walked a mile to the pharmacy to pick me up some medicine. You came back and ended up getting sick from the cold.” Steve smiled warmly at the nostalgia of it all. “You’ve always looked out for me. So naturally, I trust you.”

At some point, Steve’s hand had found its way to Bucky’s knee, and he found himself squeezing it comfortingly. Reassuringly. The former assassin was silent as he picked at the fabric of his jeans- some old ones that Steve had lent him. “You okay?” Steve asked softly. Bucky nodded, still not speaking. Steve nodded, too, grabbing the man’s wrist gently and taking the calloused hand in his own.

“It’ll be okay. You know that, right?”

A nod.

“You’re gonna be fine. We’re both gonna be fine. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” came the soft grumble, making Steve’s face crack into a smile. And he could have sworn he saw the beginnings of one on Bucky’s.


End file.
